Ologies and ersatz ologies.

Getting real

Ology comes from the Greek word meaning to study. We have a wide variety of ologies: things we can measure.  All matter can, of course, be measured because of a simple fact—matter has measurable properties. Thus science properly concerns itself with such areas of study as biology, meteorology, physiology, geology, cosmology, etc., all of that, and more are accepted as legitimate science, and anything objective is continuously changing. 

Some times these changes are subtle (as in the case of quantum changes), and other times they are sudden and undeniable (as in the case of a hurricane). But whether we can detect and measure such changes does not alter the fact: matter changes. Little disagreement arises over that issue unless a person stays locked into egotistically vested interests or remains in a state of denial and refuses to accept clear scientific givens. 

There are, and have been times, when politics, vested interests, and other biases have dominated scientific evidence.  Such was the case before Galileo, while humans insisted that the earth was the center of the universe and believed it was flat. It applies now when people (for vested political reasons) refuse to acknowledge that we affect environmental conditions, or more immediately when we refuse to accept the evidence that we can throw caution to the wind, not wear proper protection and avoid becoming infected by a virus we can’t see.

The question is, can something imperceptible, immeasurable and unchanging properly be an ology? If I were to write the sentence, “I see myself,” according to grammatical construction, “I” would be the subject, “see” the verb and “myself,” the object I see. But if we should flip that sentence around so that it reads, “Myself sees I,” we would agree over the absurdity of the statement and properly ask how can an object (the measurable me) possess consciousness? It is assumed that while a subject (the immeasurable me) is conscious, my skin and bones are not, without the union of subject and object.

This same analogy applies to our supreme creator, the apparent object of study in theology: the study of God. The necessary presumption in this study is that God can be transformed into an objective entity, convenient for exploration. Does that presumption stand the proof of an ology? Any intelligent and unbiased person will quickly answer that theology can’t be anything other than an ersatz science. Even among religious radicals, there is the agreement that God can’t be contained, limited, or measured. So who is fooling whom? Nevertheless, theology continues as it has for centuries based on the assumption that we can know God as a biologist knows about matter.

Without question, the presence of God can be experienced but that can never be a matter of proof. All agree on that score, so just perhaps it is time to face the truth and change theology to thepístis (pístis being the Greek word for faith): thus faith in God. So long as we continue to label this area of interest an ology we engage in pretense and continue to fuel the fires of radicals who claim things that can only be a matter of speculation.

Rules, guidelines and the real teacher.

Image via Wikipedia

When we are lost—such as now during the global COVID-19 pandemic—it’s reasonable to think about finding our way. In such a frame of mind, the first order of business seems to be formulas, techniques, and guidelines that will help us. Once we do find our way, interest in such things falls away. Our natural tendency is to focus on the immediate crisis and ignore those looming in the background. Thus knowing whether or not we’re lost determines how useful these measures are.

Conventional wisdom suggests that we are all lost and can’t manage without the provision of rigid beliefs, firm rules, oppressive laws, and harsh punishment. We have become crippled by the notion of inadequacy and thus require the crutch of constraints and dependencies. Rather than develop internal resolve and strength, we creep along shackled by abstractions. 

As a human family, we are quite fearful that civilization will collapse into a state of immorality and anarchy without these guiding forces. The evidence of living, however, contradicts this view. The fact is that we are overflowing with legal constraints, rules, and guidelines, yet society becomes more debased every day. Prisons abound, and wars have become common.

How very different this conventional view is from genuine insight. In the 18th stanza of the Tao Te Ching, it says this...

“When the great Tao is forgotten,
Kindness and morality arise.
When wisdom and intelligence are born,
The great pretense begins.
When there is no peace within the family,
Filial piety and devotion arise.
When the country is confused and in chaos
Loyal ministers appear.
Give up sainthood, renounce wisdom,
And it will be a hundred times better for everyone.
Give up kindness, renounce morality,
And men will rediscover filial piety and love...”

On the surface, this seems bizarre, but the disparity between these two views alone deserves further consideration. What Lao Tzu is pointing out here is the difference between presumption, expectations, and reality. When we aspire to rules for changing conditions, the assumption is that we lack such wisdom. The aspiration toward transcendent wisdom and intelligence produces the opposite. By relinquishing the notion of lack, we discover fullness. Anything at all—Sainthood, wisdom, peace...even the Tao—when held at arm’s length denies us of the very thing we seek.

The danger here, however, is thinking that insight is automatic. It isn’t. What is missing is the fruit that grows from the experience of awakening to our abundant, already adequate, true nature. Henepola Gunaratana clarifies the matter this way:

“There are three integral factors in Buddhist meditation—morality, concentration, and wisdom. Those three factors grow together as your practice deepens. Each one influences the other, so you cultivate the three of them together, not one at a time. When you have the wisdom to truly understand a situation, compassion towards all parties involved is automatic, and compassion means that you restrain yourself from any thought, word, or deed that might harm yourself or others. Thus our behavior is automatically moral. It is only when we don’t understand things deeply that we create problems. If we fail to see the consequences of your own action, we will blunder. The fellow who waits to become totally moral before he begins to meditate is waiting for a ‘but’ that will never come. The ancient sages say that he is like a man waiting for the ocean to become calm so that he can take a bath.”

So are we really lost? Maybe we’ve just swallowed too much bathwater and the message that we are inadequate and in need of formulas when what we need is to awaken to the reality of our unified nature and inherent abilities. Lao Tzu shares with us a rare jewel—an insight that transcends conventional wisdom. In our desire to secure a better world, we place too much hope in perfect conditions without an appreciation that out of chaos comes order; out of family discord comes piety and devotion, and by renouncing the abstraction of kindness and morality, we rediscover what we think has been lost. When we seek a teacher, we stop looking for the real teacher—ourselves and our response to life.

The trajectory of “Birds of a feather.”

Some time ago, I was listening to a radio broadcast concerned with the future of journalism. While novel and informative, the underlying theme was disturbing regarding where the world is moving from an information perspective. It is news to nobody that journalism, as we’ve known it, is in jeopardy due to the emergence of digital media and social networking groups, such as Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, Snapchat, etc.

A recent study conducted by The Pew Research Center revealed that 68% of the American Public now get their news from such social media sources even when they don’t trust what they read. Why? Because (1) it is free, and (2) they trust their “flock friends” more than traditional media forms, nearly all of which are going belly up without charging a fee to read digital versions of the news.

This trajectory is a real threat to the first amendment of the U.S. Constitution which says, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

The trend is a threat for two obvious reasons, and one not so obvious. The first obvious threat arises from a simple financial principle: Journalism conducted by unpaid journalists is highly distorted, suspect, and influenced by common coin biases of their selected pod. Good journalists don’t work pro bono. They, like every other professional of any industry, are highly paid or should be. It is next to impossible to compete with quasi-journalists who offer their opinions for free to those who are unwilling to pay for services rendered.

The second reason is related to the first: Distrust of traditional media sources and trust of “Birds of a feather,” in other words, “friends” who cluster together in opposition to other birds with opposing views and beliefs. Anyone who has spent time in social media discovers this growing tendency to cluster into pods of like-minded friends who reject the opinions of other birds that don’t share the group ethos. Those tossed out of one pod join another with an opposing ethos, and this phenomenon is running rampant, dividing our population into tribal groups, none of whom are willing to entertain different perspectives.

The third, not so obvious reason? Alienation. This problem is evolving around the world, making null and void the assurances of our First Amendment. Freedom of Speech is a precious right but means nothing when such freedom evolves into a proliferation of tribal groups who sing harmoniously to choir members ONLY. Any student of history will quickly discover that control of the media is a fundamental aspect leading to totalitarianism and was one of the preliminary measures established by Joseph Goebbels  Reich Minister of Propaganda of Nazi Germany, and fundamentally not dissimilar to attempts to universally control the message. If this attempt to control what the public needs to hear was limited to the U.S., it would be bad enough but is, unfortunately, happening around the world at present.

This clustering tendency is nothing new and is illustrated within a religious sphere by counting the thousands of religious sects or denominations that have evolved, regardless of religion. All religions have their divides that have occurred by way of this clustering inclination amongst we humans, and results in close-minded, “my way or the highway” dogmatic anchors that define the pod.

The radio broadcast referenced at the beginning of this post presents one person’s solution to the journalistic dilemma: Selling “news” based on the differing ethos’ of different pod groupings. The originator of this solution argues, convincingly, that people will not pay for what they need to hear but will pay for what they want to hear. From one point of view, this makes sense: Who amongst us all is eager to listen to people who are closed-minded to our perspectives and just want to argue their dogmatic point of view? Virtually nobody, which is the driving force undergirding this inclination. THAT is not news. It is entertainment and confirmation bias. 

And the result? That too ought to be apparent: Dogma, religious, or not. Everyone loses when we don’t differentiate between news and entertainment. And without realizing it (the third not so obvious reason) this lack of discernment leads to totalitarianism. Freedom of speech does not ensure freedom when we give way to joining political spheres who sing only their “tweets,” as song-birds of a feather.

Transitions

Which way to go?

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”—Alexander Graham Bell.

In a lifetime we go thru many transitions, beginning with dependency as a child, progressing into independency, and then returning to dependency again in old age. We thus move from need thru want and back to need again. Moving through these transitions can feel disorienting and filled with crises. I am now in the autumn of my mortal life, and like all mortal beings was born and will die one day. However, during my life-span I’ve picked up some bits of wisdom that allow me to not fear death and to welcome crisis.

The first bit concerns the Chinese language which is composed of two parts. One part deals with surface stuff and the other part is concerned with meaning. A word in English, such as crisis, means something simple like “danger” but in Chinese it means both danger and opportunity, at the same time: One door closing and another opening.

It’s human nature, as we transition from one relationship foundation to another, to experience crisis, interpret it as danger and react in ways that destroys what was, in order to enter into a new foundation, sort of like needing to clean out a closet before hanging up new clothing. It is neither good nor bad but we can see it as only loss unless we are careful and understand what is happening.

Another bit of wisdom I collected during my Zen days, concerns the process of moving through these doors. It feels threatening to leave one known-thing behind (even if it doesn’t serve us) and leap into the unknown. And then we go through a cycle, that begins with understanding our deepest human nature and grasping a principle not well known in the Western world. That principle is called “Dependent Origination.”

It is a foundational principle of everything and says simply that nothing exists independently. Independence Day is a delusion: Something our leaders desperately need to keep in mind as they make international trade deals. Responsive feedbacks can be a killer! When one thing comes into existence, the opposite comes into existence at the same time and place. There are two sides to everything. Nothing lacks perceptible qualities and thus can’t be seen. Why? Because anything that is unconditional, like nothingness (e.g., lacking conditions) has no discriminate properties. Only conditional things have discriminate properties. Our outer, mortal nature is perceptible, but our inner immortal nature is not. 

Immortally we are whole, complete, and perfect already, and is the unseen part of you and me. Immortality is our spiritual core and it is the everything/nothing part of you and me. And furthermore, mortality and immortality are irrevocably joined together. The union can’t be broken just like an up/down union can’t be broken. If we tried to do away with one side, the other side would cease to exist, at least conditionally.

The father of Zen, Bodhidharma, cast this relationship between the seen and the unseen in his Wake Up Sermon as follows:

“What mortals see are delusions. True vision is detached from seeing. The mind and the world are opposites, and vision arises where they meet. When your mind doesn’t stir inside, the world doesn’t arise outside. When the world and the mind are both transparent, this is true vision. And such understanding is true understanding.”

The conditional part of anything is divided between polar opposites and subject to cause and effect (e.g., karma). The unconditional part is unified and not subject to anything. Conditions change. Immortality (e.g., no conditions) doesn’t change.

Why do we suffer, and find it hard to know what is true? The Buddha and ancient yogis boiled it down to what was known as “kleshas”⎯Sanskrit, meaning causes of affliction. And there were five inter-related kleshas, the first of which was ignorance of our true reality, believing that the eternal is temporary, the pure is impure, and pleasure is sure to be painful. This false representation of reality was understood as the root klesha that produced the other four. When our true reality is experienced, we are set free from mental bondage we don’t even know exists. And when our understanding is distorted, the other four kleshas follow, and they are:

“I-am-ness”⎯The identification of ourselves with our ego. We create a self-image of ourselves that we believe is us, but it is not us. And this misidentification results in three mental poisons of greed, anger, and ignorance.
“Attachment”⎯The attraction for things that brings satisfaction to our false sense of ego-self. Our desire for pleasurable experiences creates mindless actions and blind-sighted vision. To a narcissist, this seems perfectly normal. When we can’t obtain what we desire, we suffer. When we do obtain what we desire, our feelings of pleasure soon fade and we begin our search for pleasure again.
“Repulsion”⎯The opposite of attachment; aversion towards things that produce unpleasant experiences. If we can’t avoid the things we dislike, we suffer. Even thinking about unpleasant experiences produces suffering, which lies at the root of PTSD. I recently went through this on the 4th of July when all of the painful memories of my war experiences came rushing back, full force.
“Will to live”⎯The deepest and most universal klesha, remaining with us until our natural, mortal deaths. We know that one day we will indeed die, yet our fear of death is deeply buried in our unconsciousness.

There is no remedy to this cycle of suffering without first dealing with the number one klesha—that of understanding our true, unified reality. When, and if we do, then the other four become unraveled and fall apart.

What I’m trying to say is this: The real part of you is the same real part of me; there is no difference, and it is that part that goes through all transitions, even the one of mortal death. It is our spiritual being, living within our mortal shell. Reality can’t be anything less than whole, complete and perfect—which by the way does not mean without mortal flaw, at least not in the original language. Perfection means “arrived, or the end result” and when anyone arrives at this understanding of our true, unchanging nature, we discover we have never left and there is nowhere to go without being there already.

Closing one door, in transitioning, is not to be feared. It is to be welcomed because without closing that door, we won’t go through the one that is always open to us. I know it is hard to let go of what was (the past) and getting old (which really sucks, mortally) requires that we adapt and change away from want and accept, without complaint, need. I am now fully in my mortal autumn and am very clear about mortal needing.

I keep a poem by Rumi pinned to my refrigerator door to remind me of how to go through the mortal crisis. It is called The Guest house.

“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”

The high price of choice: winning battles, losing wars.

My way or the highway?

The boundary line between sleep and wakefulness is anything but clear. Ordinarily, we think we know the difference. When sleeping, sometimes we dream, and it isn’t clear. But when we wake up, we say to ourselves, “Oh, that was just a dream.”  

Dreams can seem very real and sometimes terrifying. Research has shown that between 25% to 50% of people die while asleep. While not conclusive, evidence suggests that little difference exists between such things as heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety states, and stress hormones produced due to wakeful states of stress and sleep states of stress. The body doesn’t distinguish. Our reasoning is that one state (wakeful state of consciousness) is real, while the sleep state is not. 

To fathom the Buddhist understanding of highest, or ultimate reality, it is necessary to come to terms with the basis of differentiation. And when this is explored the conclusion is that the vast majority of the human race is never awake but is instead in a state of perpetual sleep, not knowing the difference between reality and unreality. 

To unlock this mystery, we need to examine this matter of discrimination. Why do we see things as mutually discrete and different? Isn’t it sufficient that they appear that way? Things are different, at least perceptually. We see, smell, taste, feel, hear, and imagine them as being different and mutually discrete. How could it be otherwise? That alone should justify discrimination—shouldn’t it?

According to the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, this is seeing only one half of the picture—and not the important half—of reality which is transcendent to perception. There is a state of consciousness, referred to as the highest (or ultimate reality) where all differences do not appear. It is not a state based on normal means of perception but is rather experienced intuitively. It is the root consciousness from which all perception arises. This state is not determined logically, accessed philosophically, or described by words or other symbols. It’s discerned directly—by-passing all conditions which restrict and limit reality. In this sense, it could be said that discrimination both exists and it doesn’t exist.

At the level of conditioned, mutually discrete life, which we routinely enjoy, there is no question that discrimination (e.g., differentiation) exists. Objectively things are perceived to be different, and it is impossible to avoid making judgments and expressing preferences about these objective forms. And from the basis of unconditional, the highest reality, it is equally clear that discrimination does not exist. 

At this level, all objective forms simply don’t exist. So, on the one hand, we perceive differences, make preferences, fight over such differences, and are unavoidably trapped by the choices we make—as a monkey reaching into a jar with a narrow neck to latch onto a piece of food with a closed fist. The only way the monkey can become released is to let go of the food, relax the fist, and withdraw its hand. On the other hand, we can see that there is ultimately only unity where discrimination-based choice is pointless. If there is no difference (and we imagine that there is), we live in a dream world, believing that differences are real, making choices based on that imaginary dream, and paying the karmic price.

While this view of reality may seem strange, it is eminently practical. When we see responsive, feed-back violence occurring around us, we need to take a step out of the fray and notice that no one is winning. That should be our clue to which state of consciousness is prevailing. It doesn’t necessarily mean we can step out of the unreality of our realm of perception and into the ultimate realm, but it will alert us to the price we will pay by continuing to fight battles and lose the ultimate war. 

Each side can justify retributive responsiveness. The question is always, who started it, and how do differences fit with our preconceived convictions—who took the first shot? This line of argument can be (and often is) taken all the way back to the beginning of beginningless time. In The Lanka, the Buddha, correctly points out that in the realm of ultimate reality there is no cause and effect which functions within ordinary, objective life. Cause and effect, like all of ordinary life, is an illusion with roots in our mind. One way leads to a never-ending cycle of winning battles, losing wars, suffering, and the other leads to compassion, harmony, and tranquility. The choice is always before us, and we must accept the benefits and consequences of our choices. Karmic results are unavoidable in the realm of one opposed to another. While asleep, we are all monkeys; trapped by our grasping.

Primal ignorance and primal enlightenment.

When all of the pieces fit together

In a previous post: Our overturned world, I shared Patañjali’s view of the five kleshas as being the causes of suffering. His perspective that the very first klesha: ignorance of the true nature of reality, was the foundational cause of suffering. When this primal ignorance is overturned, the other four fall into place. That being the case, the question becomes, what is the opposite of primal ignorance? When ignorance falls away, what is our natural (primal) state of mind, and what is it that results and produces a state of transformation?

Some time ago, I wrote about two opposing states of karma: Karma and the Wheel of Life and Death, and Karma and the Wheel of Dharma. The Buddha compared two paths: one leading to the discriminate states of life versus death and the other, leading to our true nature—pure consciousness without any discriminate properties, known as Buddha-nature: the realm of unity or natural enlightenment. Can that realm be perceived? And if so what does it look like? The point was made that the entire universe is a function of consciousness, or said another way: the universe is nothing other than the primordial mind in manifestation. 

The Buddha taught in the Mahaparinirvana Sūtra, “Seeing the actions of body and mouth, we say that we see the mind. The mind is not seen, but this is not false. This is seeing by outer signs.”  Of course, the mind is the source (consciousness) and as such, can’t see itself. We only see manifestations.

In that same Sūtra, he taught that “If impermanence is killed, what there is, is eternal Nirvana. If suffering is killed, one must gain bliss; if the void is killed, one must gain the real. If the non-self is killed, one must gain the True Self. O, great King! If impermanence, suffering, the Void, and the non-self are killed, you must be equal to me.”

Now we come to the critical point: unapplied consciousness has no properties. It is pure and indiscriminate. Only when consciousness is applied can discrimination occur. Until then, everything is unified and whole. 

A favorite sūtra of Bodhidharma was the Lankavatara. Here it says, “In this world whose nature is like a dream, there is a place for praise and blame, but in the ultimate Reality of Dharmakāya (our true primordial mind of wisdom/consciousness) which is far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind, what is there to praise?” 

Elsewhere Bodhidharma taught that the Dharmakāya was just another name for the Buddha and said, “When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha ... the void is not really void, but the realm of the real Dharma. This spiritually enlightening nature is without beginning ... this great Nirvanic nature is Mind; Mind is the Buddha, and the Buddha is the Dharma.”

All of the above harmonizes with Nagarjuna’s Two Truth Doctrine and the teachings of many other Zen Masters that we have two minds (one a mind of manifestation with discriminate properties and the other the great Nirvanic Mind without discrimination of any kind). In truth, these are not two but rather the unified integration of ignorance and bliss. Rationally, it appears as if there are two but think of these two dimensions as you would a roof with an outside and an inside. 

There is only one roof. From the outside, there is light, and everything appears as discriminate, but from the darkness, in the attic (where no light exists), nothing can be seen, thus no discrimination. A roof is, however, a feeble example since the mind that can’t be seen contains nothing and everything at the same time. Everything comes from there, but until the moment of applied consciousness, there’s nothing perceptible. It’s an everything/nothing mind.  

The great Nirvanic Mind is not perceptible since it’s the ground out of which all perception emanates. It can only be experienced but in itself is “…far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind.” Here there is no life or death, no self or other, no birth or death, no misidentification (asmita), no attachment (raga), no anger following a loss (dvesha), no misunderstanding life, and death (abhinivesha), no versus of any kind. THIS is what a transformed mind is, and when you awaken to this realm, you discover nothing other than what has always been: your true self—the Mind of the Buddha, full to overflowing in wisdom (the opposite of primal ignorance). This is when all of the pieces fall into place—this is the true nature of reality.

Deluded Mind

In the commentary on The Diamond Sutra, Huineng said, “A bodhisattva doesn’t practice charity for his own happiness but to break through miserliness within and to benefit other beings without. But the Tathagata says that the perceptions of self and other are ultimately subject to destruction and not truly real. Hence, all beings are fictions. If one can get free of the deluded mind, there are no beings to save.”

I’ve read and puzzled over that statement for a long time, and then I decided to just pay attention to that last part, “If one can get free of the deluded mind, there are no beings to save.” The question is, what’s the difference between a mind that is deluded and one that isn’t? Apparently, a deluded mind imagines something that doesn’t exist, like seeing heat waves on the highway and concluding rippling water. In this case, Huineng says that we likewise believe entities called self and others, which we mistake as being real. In other words, what we take to be real is actually fictitious.

The teaching of “no-self” is deeply embedded in Buddhism. It’s a fundamental tenet. In our deluded state of mind, we imagine a separate and independent being that is the same thing as a body. It looks real, and it seems separate from every other body. How can it not be real and mutually discrete? Yet Huineng says this perception is not real. It only seems that way, and this conclusion is apparently emanating from a deluded mind.

How can this be understood? To answer that puzzler, we have to take a step backward and consider how Huineng and The Buddha understood the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. The what isn’t part is that things exist independently. Instead, everything is arising dependently, based on something else. The extended thought is that everything is thus empty, meaning that a self is not an isolated matter. By itself, it is empty (non-existent). Only when joined with something else does it exist.

It is somewhat easier to grasp this distinction with a simple example. Up and down are obviously discriminately different, yet the two dimensions don’t exist independently. These two define each other. Neither up nor down could exist independently, yet both exist in relationship to each other. That is essentially the Middle Way: Not up. Not down. Neither not, not up. Neither not, not down. Both are true together. Neither are true apart. That relationship is known as dependent origination, and the implications of that principle are far-reaching. Of course, we embrace independence (which is foundational to our nation) and fail to see the connection.

How then does this understanding inform this matter of self and other? If we apply this criterion to a person, the question is, what is the connective tissue? If I’m not independent, what is the other side of me? Or of you? Obviously, we have a bodily form, which we are looking at, and that part certainly looks real and independent. Yet the Huineng said no. It is neither real nor independent. By itself, a body is no more real than up apart from down.

To answer this question, we need to switch over to another Sutra—The Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra, which says form=emptiness. We know what our own form is. It’s our body. But this sutra says that this bodily form is empty (e.g., not real; not independent); instead, it is mutually dependent on this thing called emptiness. Neither of these is real by itself, and both are real together. So how can we define and understand the empty part? The truth is you can’t identify or conceptually understand emptiness. It can only be experienced because emptiness is your primordial mind, which can’t define itself.

The father of Zen (Bodhidharma) said this, “To say that the real Dharmakāya of the Buddha resembles the Void is another way of saying that the Dharmakāya is the Void and that the Void is the Dharmakāya...they are one and the same thing...When all forms are abandoned, there is The Buddha...the void is not really void, but the realm of the real Dharma. This spiritually enlightening nature is without beginning...this great Nirvanic nature is Mind; Mind is The Buddha, and The Buddha is the Dharma.”

The other side of us all is this spiritually enlightened mind. It can’t be seen or understood by our thinking mind, but without that, we (the bodily part of us) couldn’t exist. Without that part, we would be nothing more than fiction. This mind is what produces, not only our bodies but everything else. This mind is spiritually integrated with everything.

Hitting the bullseye.

Going to the root cause.

In light of the recent explosion of potentially catastrophic events around the world, it’s tempting to be diverted from what is foundationally important, speak reactively and directly to these matters and avoid, what may seem obscure to many. When immediate, critical matters become in-your-face, it is natural to focus purely on such matters and forget about what was that way minutes ago.  

I attempt to remain focused on the foundationally issues 

The father of Zen (Bodhidharma) said, “The mind is the root from which all things grow if you can understand the mind, everything else is included.” Such a thing seems apparent, but what is ordinarily considered the mind, turns out not to be, It is indeed worth the investment to plunge to that root and if we did (collectively) we wouldn’t be chasing our tails. So I carry on, trying, again and again, to identify and communicate, with as many as I can reach, concerning

I’ve led an eclectic life and been exposed to many different cultures and perspectives. One of my stops along the way was a career in the advertising business. A lot has changed since those days but some of the vital principles have remained guiding forces. There are fundamentally three that count the most: (1) reaching the people with whom you want to communicate, (2) with messages that are considered relevant and compelling by those people, and (3) do it time and time again with a variety of connected messages. Two of those are matters of media (reach and frequency) and the third concerns message.

Back before, and during, the 80s, the advertising business was influenced by the guru of the moment,

Now, due to multiple points of global contact (blogs, podcasts, ebooks, social media in various forms, email, and multi-media such as YouTube), we have entered a new era that enshrines, more than anything else, generating a demonstrable “Like” response. It ain’t what it used to be. 

Presently, more times than not, the message is sometimes bizarre (such as Alex Jones) and other air-headed forms, drives the process and those who are interested can find you through search engines. I know this personally since over the fifteen years I’ve been posting to Dharma Space, the vast majority of my readers have found me, rather than me finding them. After all of these years, roughly 89,000 spiritual seekers have become followers of Dharma Space (a mere pittance compared to hundreds of thousands of “Likes” on a single day from superficial, frivolous material, which is disturbing to me). 

However, I guess I shouldn’t despair but rather follow the wisdom of Mark Twain: “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.” Even though, I’m troubled by having no clue who these seekers are. They say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks but just maybe if I learn a few, I can generate “Likes” for something more profound than bathroom popularity.

Thanks to Google Analytics, I know where Dharma Space readers reside (continent, country, province, and city), how often they visit, how long they stay, their gender, and even the genre of postings to which they are most attracted. However, I also know that only a tiny few ever respond or comment (and I don’t think I’ve ever received a “Like”) so consequently, I am left to guess about many important matters: backgrounds and levels of spiritual maturity; why they are attracted to Dharma Space and to whom they refer Dharma Space posts; how frequently they prefer to receive my messages (some have told me they look forward to them every day while others say they are annoyed when they do) and are my readers' intellectual dilettantes or serious folk? These and many other important bits of knowledge, if I knew about them, could make my communications better and enable me to find and hit hearts of arising empathy and compassion. However, short of such information, I must use my judgments to deliver what I do and hope that a positive force results.

Honestly, I wish I didn’t attract dilettantes for entertainment's sake. If that is the motivation in mulling through Dharma Space articles, people could do a lot better spending their time watching “The Bold and the Beautiful ” or some idiot sharing YouTube videos of their daily hygienic habits.

At times I’ve thought of myself as a sort of Johnny Appleseed planting spiritual seeds, most of which may grow (hopefully) into maturity, unbeknownst to me, long after I’m gone. I write as the spirit moves me or about unfolding life, problems we encounter, and how to deal with them. Lots and lots of different seeds but with one common denominator of the unity of an unconditional, indiscriminate spiritual consciousness, designed to separate us all from the destructive force of an alienated ego and awaken us to our unseen, true nature. But unlike Johnny, I plant not only apple seeds but a variety of seeds with that common spiritual denominator. Sometimes I write short ones like “The Deep,” “Finger pointing at the moon,” or “Today you are you!” Some are whimsical such as “Rushing backward,” “Birds do it,” “Monkey see, monkey do,” and “You.” I share personal matters of my own growth process: “Little Bear and Lily Pads,” “Who the heck am I?” and “Tick, tick, tick.” 

Why am I writing this blog? Because I want my readers to know that regardless of how different we are on the superficial, perceptible level, at heart (where it matters; in the real mind spoken of by 

The eye-glasses upon our nose.

Seeing only clouds of delusion.

Zen Master Huang Po (Huángbò Xīyùn) was one of the most important and revered teachers of all time. Among other contributions he was the teacher of Lin-chi (the founder of Rinzai Zen) and the promulgator of the inherent nature of the One Mind, being everything. His teaching on this reflected the Indian concept of the tathāgatagarbha—the idea that within all beings is the nature of the Buddha. Therefore, Huang Po taught that seeking the Buddha was futile as the Buddha already resided within:

This principle is one of the most difficult for aspirants to comprehend since the vast majority of the human race firmly believes Enlightenment IS to be attained and may spend their entire phenomenal lives seeking what they already possess. This idea of no attainment was eloquently articulated by the following:

“If an ordinary man, when he is about to die, could only see the five elements of consciousness as void; the four physical elements as not constituting an ‘I’; the real Mind as formless and neither coming nor going; his nature as something neither commencing at his birth nor perishing at his death, but as whole and motionless in its very depths; his Mind and environmental objects as one–if he could really accomplish this, he would receive Enlightenment in a flash. He would no longer be entangled by the Triple World; he would be a World-Transcender. He would be without even the faintest tendency towards rebirth. If he should behold the glorious sight of all the Buddhas coming to welcome him, surrounded by every kind of gorgeous manifestation, he would feel no desire to approach them. If he should behold all sorts of horrific forms surrounding him, he would experience no terror. He would just be himself, oblivious of conceptual thought and one with the Absolute. He would have attained the state of unconditioned being. This, then, is the fundamental principle.”

His expositions reflected the same principle expressed roughly 1,600 years prior in the Bhagavad-Gita, which spoke of the eternal, yet obscured nature of the Self:

“Once identified with the Self, we know that although the body will die, we will not die; our awareness of this identity is not ruptured by the death of the physical body. Thus we have realized the essential immortality which is the birthright of every human being. To such a person, the Gita says, death is no more traumatic than taking off an old coat.”

If we could grasp and experience our essential nature, all fear for our destiny would disappear, we would awaken to our truth and realize Enlightenment in a flash. Yet we are lost in a cloud of delusion as one would be when looking through the lenses of eyeglasses positioned upon our noses.

Eternal frame of mind.

We are facing an unprecedented era of crisis, never seen before.

Not only is there the evident crisis of fighting a global war with an unseen enemy we have labeled COVID-19, but there are other crisis’ roaring along in the background (such as global climate change) while our attention is diverted fighting the virus, with all of its permutations—impact on global economies with the two-edged sword of dying from exposure to the virus or dying from starvation, impact on food supplies, a growing divide among all people, based on placing blame, and the impact on mental/emotional health, et.al.

Conspiracy theories are flaring through social media, dwelling on finding the culprit, punishing them, or those who would simply rather put their heads in the sand and hope it will all just go away. While China may, or may not, be the source of the viral spread, intentionally (which would be total madness) or accidentally, we in the US (with a history going back 243 years, to the signing of the Declaration of Independence) would do well to recognize our comparative national youth. Within recorded history, China dates back 4,000 years, is recognized as one of the four great ancient civilizations of the world, together with ancient Egypt, Babylon, and India. And moreover, it is the only ancient civilization that has continued to this very day. China was one of the cradles of the human race and has gone through countless times of catastrophe. Any group of people that have survived that long probably has something of value to say about “crisis,” and it does.

The Chinese word (written as “危机”) means “crisis” and is made up of two characters: “危” and “机.” 危 means danger, and 机 means chance and opportunity. However, 机 can also mean pivot (a term we hear much today)—a crucial or a watershed moment. Logically, this makes much more sense than looking at a moment of crisis simply as though it were stuck in time. Whether 243, 4,000 years or 200,000 years—the time homo sapiens have been on earth, each and every moment evolves into new, never seen before moments, through good times and bad.

Of course, while in the midst of the “危” (danger) we tend to forget that nature abhors a vacuum, and “机” (opportunities) will follow, as surely as the sun follows the darkness. The question is thus, how to maintain equanimity in the midst of apparent, tangible catastrophes? And this comes down to how we view ourselves, others, and the world around us. If we remain persuaded that life=physical/mortal life, then it follows there most likely won’t be any following opportunities without reverting to the survival of the fittest—dog-eat-dog, kill, or be killed behavior. However, if life is not just tangible, measurable, flesh, bones, or anything else that can be perceived through our senses, but is instead immortal and eternal, then equanimity is much more possible. 

Both Jesus and The Buddha taught that true life is eternal and does not end with bodily death. People put words in the mouth of Jesus (as they did with The Buddha) and texts have been written to support both views. For example, there is the Sutra of Infinite Life and various Christian texts, ranging from Canonical approved ones to others from the Gnostic Gospels (which conflict with each other). The unabashed truth is nobody has ever been able to prove the nature of an afterlife (either for the good or the bad) and I would argue that what we do mortally ought to be the focus, not as a gamble to insure what may or may not happen following our mortal end, but rather because doing good is better than doing bad. So long as we pin our hope on divine justice it undermines our motives to take responsibility in the here-and-now.

The certainty of failure.

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”⎯Alan Watts

As Voltaire indicated, while doubt is an unpleasant state of mind, the presumption of certainty is absurd. One of the essential differences between Buddhism (which is based on the certainty of change) and other religious institutions concerns this matter of uncertainty, and what to do about it. Since change is inevitable, The Buddha promoted upaya, which translates as “expedient means.” There are no fixed solutions that always work, and to continue down the road of life, based on the expectation of certainty is a fool's errand.

On an individual or a tribal basis, such behavior is known as clinging to dogma⎯The pinnacle of “inappropriate ideological conduct,” and always opposed to other such conduct, not like them. The specific nature of constantly unfolding life is not predictable. Yet, it does not stop us from manufacturing hardened walls—their purpose being to take the capacity to wiggle out of life itself. It can’t be done for a simple reason: Life=wiggle.

Our vision is limited. We tend to see what is on-the-surface, perceptible, and lies within our immediate sphere. Those who traveled on the Titanic, unfortunately, discovered this error too late. Hardly an ounce of consideration goes into how we got here, or where our footsteps are leading. Our presumption is that there is a straight, safe path from the past through our present and on to a predictable future. To make matters worse, we then enshrine our words and actions into habitual ideologies and rules, forgetting that how we got here was 100% unpredictable. The continuing gap between prediction and reality never ceases!

Some years hence Nassim Nicholas Taleb wrote a New York Times bestseller called The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable. According to Taleb, few if any of the significant human tides were, or could have been, predicted. He was, and is, of course, correct. And one of the key reasons for his accuracy is uncertainty. Just as very few swans are black (most are white), very few tides happen as we predict, simply because of the constancy variable (e.g., the uncertainty factor). Who could have predicted a coronavirus pandemic? Or the economic melt-down that resulted? Change is the only sure thing, and nobody can predict the precise nature of change.

This is a vast human problem to our collective wellbeing since many of the most significant tides, blind-side us with catastrophes, and we are then forced to rush to unfounded judgments, grasping for straws, while juggling fate. And then, not learning from our errors, going on to craft, yet again, other fixed ideologies that will likewise fail. Life is not constructed within an unchanging straight-jacket. Instead, it wiggles and always expands beyond the limitations we construct—in error—as we try-try-yet-again to make it steady and forthright, thus rendering it predictable.

This admonition is global in nature. And the under-the-radar truth is that our collective consciousness is the result of trillions of individual contributions, invisibly happening all of the time and merging with other equally unpredictable bubbles constituting the Great Life Sea—which is nothing more than those collective bubbles, forming a frothy tide washing upon, and grinding away, the boundaries we set.

One of the most significant of all compendiums of Mahayana Buddhist wisdom, conveying this principle of uncertainty, comes from The Diamond Sutra. And the essence of wisdom therein was stated by The Buddha as:

“So what should be on one’s mind, as one begins the Bodhisattva journey?

‘Like a falling star, like a bubble in a stream, Like a flame in the wind, like frost in the sun, Like a flash of lightning or a passing dream—So should you understand the world of the ego.’” (e.g., A world of continuous change, dominated by greed, anger, and ignorance).